Far from Perfect
by fantasyra
Summary: The most disturbing thing was the pool of blood. The coffee table itself was literately dripping blood onto Daphne's tan carpeting. Judging by the amount on and around the table, the smell in the air, and her friends clothes, the first conclusion someone would have had would have been she murdered someone in her sitting room. This was not an unfamiliar situation.
1. Far From Perfect

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all, I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Beta's:

Still running solo on this one. Hopefully I did all right. I have Beta'ed this story to the best of my limited ability.

**Chapter 1, Not an Unfamiliar Situation**

The alley was completely deserted save for a pair of grey tom cats foraging in the dust bin for scraps. Tails flicked showing their enjoyment of the fair helpfully provided by the Indian restaurant that sat next to it. Little did any save for a very few people know that the end of this particular non-descript mundane ally was actually a very special place. To those in the know it was called an appartion point. A safe location to appear in if, like the woman who just did exactly that, you were magical and could actually pull off that particular method of travel. Of course if anyone in the neighborhood was told such a thing they would have looked to the story teller, called him or her a nutter and gone on about their day, because everyone knew that magic did not exist.

The young woman who appeared in complete disregard of this common wisdom did so with a moderate 'pop' of displaced air. The noise startled the unsuspecting felines to hissing followed by a quick bolt in different directions. The young woman who appeared looked around to make sure no one else noticed her arrival. Far be it for her to be the one to shatter the ignorance of the populace in the area. That was not why she was here, in this particular ally, this particular night. Tonight she was here only to see her long time and best friend and hopefully convince her that a night out on the town was a good idea.

Once satisfied that no one noticed her arrival, she moved to the mouth of the ally. It only took a few steps for her to enter the harsh light of the streets electric lamp. There she raised her hand to push her long dark hair out of her face and behind her ear keeping her focus on the building across the road. The building was a two story affair that was completely at ease in its brick and mortar design with its fellows in the poor neighborhood. The windows were dark which let her know that the business was closed. The woman snorted. If you can call a Free Clinic a business. She looked around the neighborhood taking note of the deserted street and the fact most of the other mundane shops were closed themselves. Satisfied no one was about to enquire about her leaving a dead end ally she checked to make sure none of the horseless carriages were speeding or going to speed her way on the road. One near miss was more than enough to instill the precaution in her.

How her friend ended up here running the clinic for the mundane people around her was a complete mystery to her. O sure, she was a licensed Healer but why she would seek to know about non magical medicine practices was something that up until she did it was not something she would have foreseen. It was a far cry from the life either of them had lived only five short years ago. Not to mention nothing of the directions she envisioned for her friend at this point in their lives. She sighed as she crossed the road advancing on the building. Just goes to show you nothing ever seems to fly strait when it involved… _him._

With long practice she circled around to the rear of the building through the adjacent alley. She shivered as she past the ward line as she always did. They were very powerful and to a magical person not keyed into them, potently deadly. How _he_ got away with putting them here was way beyond her. To her understanding they had only been tested once. She had it on good authority from an old acquaintance that the individual in question was still, three years later, recovering at ST. Mungos hospital for magical maladies for trying to breach them. Just the feel of them as she past the line was enough for her to be thankful she was keyed in. It was well beyond her power or knowledge to even think about trying to breach them. However aside from the moments thought she flicked it from her mind. Tonight the only thing that she was going to allow her thoughts to focus on was music, drinks, her man, and getting her friend to come with her for a good time. Merlin knew she wouldn't go out unless prompted.

It didn't take long for her to climb the iron scroll work stairs at the rear of the building. Or for her to fish out the key to let her into the flat that sat atop the clinic itself. She could feel, as she always did, the rise in heat from the key as it communed with the wards and allowed her to unlock the door. However she no sooner entered the building and called out her greeting when all her plans for the night fell to ruins.

"Hey Daphne! I…"

The room was smallish, at least compared to her own sitting room. Her friend Daphne had always kept a neat home but neat was not something that could be applied to the room at this moment. Aside from the crystal vials, small clear bags, and red stained cloths thrown haphazardly about the most disturbing thing was the pool of blood. The coffee table itself was latterly dripping blood onto Daphne's tan carpeting. Judging by the amount on and around the table, the smell in the air, and her friends clothes, the first conclusion someone would have had would have been she murdered someone in her sitting room. For her part Daphne looked at her with surprised widened eyes, hands and arms crimson apparently caught in the act of cleaning up.

"Daphne…" she muttered sadly. This was not an unfamiliar scene, but one that always seemed to catch her by surprise every single time it happened. Ever since the first time it always disturbed and frustrated her. Just as much as it sadden her.

"Hello Tracy." Daphne muttered while knelling down to sop up the pooled blood with the cloth in her hands. Her hair shifted from over her ear and covered her friends face while she worked. Tracy noticed the dark bags under Daphne's eyes before she lowered them and they became lost behind the curtain of her raven hair. She knew just by looking at her she must have been at this for some time, Daphne never fatigued fast.

She closed her eyes before she resignly asked. "Is it as bad as it looks?" With _him_ here she knew there was just no way period she was going to get Daphne out of the flat tonight.

Her friend paused in her efforts to think for a moment. "Not as bad as Brasilia. Worse than Melbourne. Closer to Tibet and Los Angeles." Still with that maddening calm to her voice.

She sighed again at her friends tone. "Daph, you can't keep doing…"

She heard real emotion in her friends curt reply. "What do you want Tracy?"

"Look, I came by to see if you would like to go to Club Three with us but even I can see thats shot now. Daphne, you know you can't keep doing this…"

Daphne tossed the blood soaked rag onto the pile of other similar cloths before she started picking up the various vials and syringes. The sound of the crystals hitting each other sounded around her own words. "Tell Charlie I asked about him."

"Come on Daphne…" Tracy tried to reason.

"No Tracy."

"This isn't healthy for you, it needs to stop."

"NO!" Tracy took an instinctive step back as Daphne rose fast to her feet shaking. In rage or fear she could never tell but this always seemed to happen when she tried to talk to her about this. Tracy watched sadly as her friends stood defiant for a few moments, body shaking and tears streaming down her pale face from her cold blue eyes.

Tracy sighed again holding up her hands. "Okay, I'll stop." A few moments past while Tracy watched her best friend calm down. "Look, why don't you get some rest. I'll finish up in here."

Daphne shook her head before she replied, once again in that tired guarded tone. "No, you should go, get to Charlie. I'm sure he's waiting on you, and it's been a while since either of you have had time together."

Tracy offered a halfhearted smirk. "It's okay. Besides, waiting is good for a man's soul. Go on, you're dead on your feet. I'll finish up."

Daphne hesitated for a moment before she asked, "You sure?"

Tracy nodded resignly. It wasn't the first time she'd done this for her. "Go on. Knowing you, you haven't slept in a day or two."

For the first time tonight warmth sounded in her friends voice. Even if it didn't reach her tired face. "Thanks Tracy."

As her friend moved past she gently placed one hand on her shoulder. Despite that she said she wouldn't badger her anymore she couldn't help but do so anyways. "You know I'm right."

"He needs me. He came to me."

"One day he won't."

Daphne's voice lowered, real fear underlining the words she spoke. "I know. Until then, I will be here for him. This is what Father wanted."

Tracy bit back but tried to keep her frustration out of her voice. She only partially succeeded. This was an old circular argument and it just grated on her nerves every time they walked these same roads. "Bollux and you know it. Cyan didn't want this kind of life for you, and you know it. Besides, you know perfectly well this has been going on longer than since Cyans death. This goes all the way back to Hogwarts. I was there Daph, how often did I cover for you? You got to let this go!" Wrung of emotion Tracy swallowed and continued. "This is going to break you, either when he doesn't come back, or if you fail. Daphne, you know I'm right, you can't fix this."

Her voice even Daphne replied. "I know."

"Then walk away! Let him go Daphne, this is obviously what he wants…"

Like every time they reached this point in this conversation she could tell her words fell on def ears. Daphne's reply did nothing to dispel this assumption. "Good night Tracy. Thank you for helping."

Tracy watched as her friend walked down the short hallway. She paused only for a moment to place her hand on the door to the spare room of her flat. Tracy watched almost heart broken as the seconds past before Daphne entered her own bedroom and closed the door. The sound of the shower running was the only sound for some time.

Tracy sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time. She knew better than to use magic to help with any of the cleaning, after the first time she helped Daphne clean up and the results of her magic mixing with Daphne's unique potions taught her enough. By the time the shower stopped she gathered up all the vials and syringes and got them washing in the sink, picked up all the scattered blood stained bandages and cloths, and using a solvent that Daphne created just to clean up all the blood in her sitting room. She just finished when she noticed her friend walking from her own bedroom and entering the spare room. With another heavy sigh she set the rags to wash before she let herself out retracing her steps to the apparition point. She was already over an hour late for her date with her husband when she appeared around the corner of her destination. Her mind lost in thoughts about how the whole thing started all those years ago. Or at least, when she became aware of it.

At the time she became aware of this, bizarre for lack of anything else to call it, situation it had already been going on for more than a year. It was their shared Sixth Year when Tracy herself found out and got the beginnings of it from Daphne. Both of them were returning from dinner in the Great Hall looking forward to an early night. Trying to stay ahead of all the N.E.W.T. work they got was truly challenging but on this particular night, both had managed to get a head and so looked forward to the extra few hours of sleep that the last week had denied them. They had just entered their dorm in the Slytherin Dungeons when it became apparent that extra sleep was the last thing they were going to manage.

The reason for that was the young man lying on Daphne's bed. However, this was not the embarrassing situation of a young man being caught going through their knickers. No, he was bleeding, and had bled enough to soak a very visible bloodstain on her emerald and silver comforter. Daphne rushed forward pulling her wand with nary a though while chanting diagnostic spells. The fact she even knew them impressed as well as scared Tracy a bit. The way she waved her wand and never hesitated cemented the thought she was well practiced in their use.

"Hurry, Tracy, put up the partition."

In complete shock of the situation Tracy replied completely different than the calm request that was given her. "What is going on Daphne?"

"Please Tracy! I'll explain in a bit."

"You better; you have any idea how much trouble we are going to get into if he's found here?" Tracy stated while casting the ward. A deep grey wall slowly rose up from the floor to meet the ceiling effectively cutting the room in half. It was something they've been doing since fourth year when they learned it. Mostly to keep Parkinson and Bulstrode out of their hair as both were more than just a bit nosey into things that were, quiet frankly, none of their business.

With her teeth clenched in concentration she replied to Tracy's question. "Not as much as we would be in if they find his corpse. Hand me my satchel over by our vanity Tracy."

"Daphne, you got to give me more than this…"

"Now Tracy! Unless you _want_ to explain to Professor Snape why we have a Gryffindor corpse in our dorm!" Daphne cut her off. Tracey blinked at the commanding and hard tone to her dorm mate.

Tracy moved and retrieved the satchel handing it to her friend who had somehow closed the last of the deep cuts on the boys back. As much as she personally thought their head of house would enjoy the sight of his dead body Tracy didn't want to be the one to have to explain the what's and the how's, especially since she didn't know anything. "Daphne, maybe we should get him to the Hospital wing. Madam Promfrey…"

"No. Help me turn him over; he's too heavy for just me and the levitation charm will break open the knitting I've managed so far." Daphne asked while grabbing one arm trying to turn him over to check the damage to his front. "It always seems to with these gashes. Come on Tracy!" Tracy for her part just shook her head before moving to helping her friend pull it off without dropping his body onto the floor. She was pretty sure it would be a bad idea if they let it happen.

"Why not take him to Promfrey Daphne? We can say we just found him in the corridor or something." Tracy looked at the four deep gashes along his front. "Besides, he's in a bad way and as much as I don't like him, I don't want to be responsible for his d…death. Seriously Daphne, I think we should take him to Madam Promfrey."

She watched as Daphne ran the tip of her willow wand along the first of the gashes on his chest. The wound slowly closing shut as the fibers of his muscle and skin responded to whatever she was doing to seal them closed. Sweet fell from the effort of the spell Daphne was using as she worked. "If he wanted Promfrey to heal him he would have gone to the Hospital Wing on his own Tracy. I need you to give him one of the potions in my satchel. The blue potion, no the big one, make him drink that one. He's lost so much blood I don't think he can replace it on his own."

Potion in hand she raised an eyebrow at the fact that I was unlikely she was going to be able to get the thick liquid down his throat without his help. "How? Daphne I don't know this stuff like you do and its not like he's going to be drinking this on his own."

Still concentrating on what she was doing her reply came distractedly. "Place the tip of your wand to the top of his throat, pour the potion into his mouth and slowly move your wand down to his collarbone while incanting _Tenicurela_."

Surprisingly it worked and she managed to get him to swallow the potion without choking on it. She noticed his pale flesh seemed to gain a much better color within a few moments. By the time he skin appeared just a shade pale instead of corpse white Daphne had managed to seal the last of the gashes on his body. Only then did Daphne relax, half falling backward from the exhaustion of her work.

"Okay Daphne, talk." Tracy demanded once her friend had a moment to collect herself.

Daphne took several deep breaths while slowly sliding down the wall she was leaning against. She replied in a quiet voice while never taking her eyes of their bloody guest. "It started last year, just before Christmas. You remember when I was obsessed with finding fresh Moon Rose for that experiment I was working on? The improved formula for healing draughts I was so sure would work?"

Tracy snorted. "Like I'm likely to forget. You drove me barmy for almost three weeks." Tracy frowned in thought. "You know, I don't remember you ever actually finishing that project, you just stopped talking about it."

Daphne nodded once as she explained. "I heard overheard Professor Sprout and Professor Hagrid talking once. He motioned Moon Rose might grow wild in the Forbidden forest. Not sure what put them on that particular conversation as I came in half way through it. He vaguely mentioned he thought he saw a patch of it near one of the Centaur ranges." Daphne took a deep breath before she started again. "It took me a week of planning before I felt ready to go find it. You remember how strict things were back then. I left after curfew managed to avoid all the teachers and ghosts, and got through the main doors without anyone seeing. From there I started exploring. I was so sure that Moon Rose would prove my theories. It was my chance to prove I was right and I wasn't going to let a few rules stop me. I went out every night during the yule holidays but it wasn't until about a week after classes started back up I found what Professor Hagrid mentioned.

"I had to be careful, the Centaurs were very aggressive for some reason and of course, they are not the only thing that lives in that forest. Once I had enough for a couple of tries for my experiments I started heading back. That's when I found him the first time."

Tracy watched as her friends eyes as they seemed to glass over as she fell into the memory. "I could see spell fire, and hear incantations, screams of pain from some sort of fight. Before I even realized what I was doing I had crept forward to see what was going on. By the time I got there it was over. He was still standing, but breathing really hard and even a blind hag could see he was hurt. There was maybe half a dozen of these giant spiders everywhere and the area was devastated. I took one step too many and broke a twig with my foot which caused him to spin around and notice me. Even now I don't think he could actually see me but he had his wand pointed in my general direction. He mumbled something; I don't know what, before he collapsed. I don't know why I didn't run, morbid curiosity maybe. I'd never been close to someone in his position before and you know I wanted to be a healer since before we started Hogwarts. So, I kept going forward, ready to run if he twitched the wrong way but he just lay there. I…I couldn't just leave him and we were really deep into the forest. Way too far for me to levitate him out, so, I tried to heal him."

Daphne's voice sounded more and more haunted as she continued. "I had my satchel with me incase I got hurt, which was really fortunate. He had a lot of wounds on him, some days old, some weeks, most fresh from that night. It took a long time before I could close most of his bleeding wounds, bandage and set his ribs, and a few other things. Most of his injuries were beyond me and I was getting really worried that there was nothing I could do. In the end I did manage to patch him up enough for him to regain consciousness and walk back to the castle even if I had to support him most of the way."

"Daphne, that doesn't explain what he is doing in our dorm, on your bed, half dead." Tracy stated.

Her eyes regained their focus as she shook her head from the memory. "No, but that's how it started. I tried to get him to go to Madam Pomfrey, but he wouldn't. He didn't want anyone to know what he was doing."

"And what was that exactly?" Tracy asked.

Daphne took in a shuttering breath before taking her eyes off the boys form for the first time to look direction into Tracy's own. "You can't tell Tracy. You have to promise me you won't tell anyone about this."

Tracy shook her head in bafflement while looking at her best friend as if she grew a second head. "You're mental you are if you think I'm going to make that promise Daphne."

"Tracy…" Tracy watched as Daphne's eyes hardened, a look most Slytherin boys knew very well, but this was the first time that look had ever been directed at her. "Promise me Tracy. No one can know about this. No one. I've never asked you for anything before Tracy, I'm asking now, please. If you are my friend, if ever you were my friend, promise me."

Tracy knew exactly what she meant by that harsh statement. Friendship in the Dungeons was a fickle and flighty ideal depending on who was leading in the never ending power struggle of their house. However their friendship, they had promised each other in first year when they noticed the trend, was nothing like that. For six years they had struggled living in their house of shifting alliances, but their bond never waivered. "Daphne…come on that's not right. You can't ask that. This isn't about keeping our heads down or staying out of the pureblood politics of our house; we have a half dead boy in our dorm! And not just any boy but…"

"Please!" Daphne begged. Tracy closed her eyes instantly regretting what she knew she was going to do. Never had she heard the pleading tone to girl sitting next to her.

"Okay Daph, I promise." Tracy debated for a moment about how far down this pit she was willing to go. Her friend was deep in this and for that alone she knew so was she now. "In for a Knut, in for a Galleon. Okay Daphne, what the hell was he doing and how have you been caught up in this madness since last year."

Daphne's tears of gratitude enhanced her words. "Thank you." She quickly cleared her throat. "He told me he's been training. Mostly on his own. He's been treating himself for a while but doing a pretty bad job of it. It was three weeks after that first time before he sought me out.

"I was in the library looking up uses of Firevine when he staggered into me in the aisles. He looked pale, and pretty scared. Told me he couldn't close the cut on his stomach. One look at his shirt told me that readily enough. I took him to an unused classroom and after we sealed it so no one would walk in on us I took a look. It was pretty bad but fixable. His problem was he couldn't keep his hand from shaking, I honestly don't know how he kept from screaming in agony when I cleaned and sealed the wound. I wasn't very good back then and I know from cleaning out a minor wound on my own leg a few days prior how much the sanitation spell alone would hurt."

Tracy looked to the young man in the bed then back to her friend. "I just don't understand Daphne. I get you found him and helped him the first time. I can even see him letting you help him to the castle but what I don't get is how it kept going." She jerked her thumb at the unconscious man. "That one is moronic enough to keep trying to kill himself in his down time, yeah, okay, makes sense. I've always said he was a twisted blighter with about as much brains as pond scum, but what made him seek you out?"

Daphne rose from her seat to cast a few charms on her patient, enough time had passed for her to get an idea if there were any problems from the treatments she used. Tracy rose with her but keep her focus on her friend waiting for a response. It didn't talk long before she got one. "I asked him that once. Why me? Surely there were others closer to him who would be better suited to helping him. Granger for sure anyways. Just because I helped him the first time why risk coming back to me? I'll tell you what he told me when I finally asked him at the end of last year.

"He said to me, 'I don't know." Tracy kept looking at Daphne in silence. "I know, it wasn't good enough for me then either and I told him so. For all he knew, I would give him to the Dark Lord, or Malfoy. I even told him so. In his condition its not like he could fight me off, no matter how good he was. Tracy, he just turned and looked at me, his eyes completely empty of anything and he told me he didn't care if I did."

Tracy shook her head just not understanding any better than when this whole thing started. She heard the hitch in Daphne's breath when she took a deep breath before she started talking again. "Up until that moment we never talked. He'd show up hurt, I'd patch him up. I won't deny it was thrilling to have my very own living practice dummy. There is only so much you can learn from books and the kinds of injuries he showed up with keep me researching newer and more varied spells. He didn't have any expectations, like he didn't care if I succeeded in healing him or not. In the beginning that was often the case. He'd go weeks with certain injuries while I tried to figure out how to fix them. He never pushed or complained or tried to hurry me, just accepted what I could do and what I couldn't. As I got better at it he would show up more often. That night last year was the first time I saw that look in his eyes or heard that tone in his voice though.

"I asked him again why. Why me? I'm just a novice healer more prone to kill him than save him with what little I knew. I am honestly surprised he'd even lived this long under my care. I know I didn't expect him too. So why come to me? Why would a Gryffindor, much less him, come to a snake for healing? That's when he started talking for the first time. He said in the beginning, it was because no one would suspect me helping him. He didn't want anyone knowing he was practicing his spells on live targets in the Forbidden Forest. 'Tempering Himself' he said. He knew the Dark Lord was back, and no one was training him so he was going out there trying to catch up since no one believed him. He wanted to be ready when the Dark Lord moved into the open. But then a few days prior something changed. He learned something and it changed everything for him. He said he finally understood why his life was the way it was."

"Did he tell you what or why?" Tracy asked.

Daphne shook her head. Tracy frowned when she noticed the single tear trek down Daphne's face. "No he didn't. But this year it's been worse. He's been pushing himself really hard… and he only trusts me to heal him. He did tell me that if I got tired of him to just say so, but I don't think he has anyone else to turn to…" Her voice lapsed into silence for a few moments. "You can't tell anyone Tracy…"

"Daphne, you know if Malfoy finds out about this, you know what that will look like! They are going to take it that we are taking a side, and they will punish our families for it. They stayed neutral last time and I know Dad is going to try to do the same this time. If they find out about this though, its going to look like it is, that we chose a side, _his_ side. You know how bad that is going to be."

"Do you really want the Dark Lord to win Tracy? You heard that little sycophant earlier this year going on and on about the things he was going to do."

Tracy shook her head. "You know I don't but… Daphne we cant get caught. You need to tell him to stop coming to you, or next time just take him to the Hospital wing and call this done."

"No. I will help him anytime he comes to me for it."

"Why? This just doesn't make any sense…"

Daphne was quite for some time before she replied strangely. "Because he needs me…"

Tracy shook off the memory. _He needs me, he came to me. _The same excuses then as they were now. She felt herself sit at the ground floor bar of the Club without realizing she was doing it or that she had arrived, so lost in her memory. This thing had been going on too long; Tracy knew she had to do something to stop it. Merlin knew Daphne was not strong enough to do it herself. She was broken out of her dark thoughts by the feeling of her husband's hand on her shoulder as he took the stool next to her. She smiled tiredly while knocking back a serious swallow of the drink he had in his hand once she stole it from him. Her eyes looked unfocusedly at the back of the bar not seeing the slightly singed eyebrow raise at her actions. She had never been one for the 'common swill' as she referred to it, he normally drank when they went out.

The moment was broken when she did speak. "Potters back."

She could tell by the way he stilled he understood exactly what she meant by that statement. "How's Daphne?"

Tracy lowered her eyes while running her finger around the lip of the glass she nicked from her husband. "Tired. I cleaned and sent her to bed. It's why I'm late."

Charlie sighed. She noticed from the corner of her eye he ranked his hand through his short ginger hair. "Did you want to do this another night love? I know we hardly ever get out with our jobs but I would understand."

Tracy shook her head. "No, tomorrow I am going to do the rounds. If she won't listen to reason maybe I can talk to the others and get them to do something about this. Someone at that company of his has to be able to do something. Tonight though, your hard arse is mine." She smiled wickedly at him pushing the darker thoughts she couldn't do anything about out of her mind.

He smirked knowingly while offering her his hand giving her a gimlet eye. "Come then, let's see how much fun we can have before they chuck us out."

**Authors Note:**

Okay, this little story is just something that hit me and so, to get it out of my head here it is. Plans to continue it are in place, but I am really curious to see how people take it. If the story intrigues you, do let me know. I could use all the thoughts you all have.

Thank you all for reading and Please Review.


	2. We Wont be Swayed

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all, I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Beta's:

Still running solo on this one. Hopefully I did all right. I have Beta'ed this story to the best of my limited ability. There will be mistakes, but I hope to have limited them so that it does not detract from the story too much.

Note:

If you don't want to read an Authors drivel, scroll down to the chapter start. This si the only warning you will get. This story, as some are guessing, is pretty dark. It's meant to showcase what Evil can do, and how years later those who fought are still feeling the impact, especially as it revolves around Harry. Most cannon characters have had had something really horrific happen to them, their characters are changed from those events. Yes, this story is pretty vague on some things, but as chapters unfold those details you are looking for will come.

This story is an experiment in writing for me to see if I can write a story in this way. Confusing, convoluted, strong dark themes, while still writing people as they are in their cores. In addition to write a story so the reader feels that they came right in the middle of the story, but not so confusing that a reader is turned off from continuing. I may fail, I may succeed, but at least I am trying. Breaking out of the standard format of ones writing comfort zone is a good exercise in any regard. Questions, concerns, thoughts, ideas, really anything would be appreciated so I can get a feel and see if my chapters are getting the desired impact to you, my readers. Now, on with the show.

**Chapter 2, We Won't be Swayed**

She walked slowly down the iron work spiral stairwell ran through the center of their home. Her long flaxen hair tied as it always was during the day in a tight braid while her house robe fluttered softly about her small feet. Her easy measured steps carried her to the ground floor and into the small kitchenette. She hummed dreamily to herself a little tune that she heard a few times while working in Milan. She opened the cabinet and took down the kettle she found during their time in Los Angeles for her and Neville's morning tea. It was a simple Blue Willow print depicting a small cottage near a river but it was easily the favorite of her growing collection. While the water slowly came to a boil she looked about her home with a smile and a content sigh. A lovely little mundane, perfectly normal ritual she cherished in the few and far between days they were home. Continuing on she busied herself with preparing a light fare for their breakfast. she resumed her humming softly to herself enjoying the normalcy of the crisp morning, simply reveling in it. The last four months had seen little of these moments and she knew their time home was going to be limited. It always was. There was always another contract waiting for them.

She looked through the window in front of her out into the forested lands around them. The rebuilt Rookery rested in the small clearing she and Neville cleared out themselves. During The Hunt Harry had led them here to hide out for a few days. Neville had taken her for walks around their camps and both fell in love over the sense of peace the place gave them. A feeling that was so rare in those chaotic days. She couldn't think of a better place to put down roots after the losses of the original Rookery and Longbottom Manor. She was very happy to discover that Harrys Construction Company managed to finish the last of the buildings while they were working in Panama. They now had five Greenhouses, the Rookery with a scaled down cottage version of Longbottom Manor adjacent to them. It was perfect. As she checked on the scones she hoped the next contract wouldn't take as long as the last one. If not they might be able to get a jump on seeding all the plants they had been collecting the last five years. That would be a wonderful hobby during their infrequent down times. For both of them. She sighed contently at the thought.

Slowly her eyes took note of her ghostly reflection in the glass slightly souring her good cheer. Her outward appearance had not changed much in the last few years. She was fit carrying very little if any extra on her small lithe frame. No chance of that with the active lifestyle they lived. Hair still fair and bright, her skin maybe a bit more pale than she liked. Her skin never seemed to take color from the sun as she wished. Her currently more than usual paleness was understandable considering the trials of the last few months. Maybe she should try sunbathing again? She didn't know if there would be enough time while Harry recovered. She could always try one of those Muggle sun tan booth things Melissa was talking about last week. That could be fun, if nothing else than as a novel experience of trying something new.

Her eyes fell, as they always did, to the long scar that marred her face. It ran from just under the right side of her nose, past the corner of her mouth slightly turning it downward and down her neck ending just short of her collarbone. It was a long healed, jagged reminder of the darkest hour of her life. It was only three days after Harry rescued her from that fate when the two of them came across Neville and rescued him from Riddle's assassins. Targeted only because it was known he was friendly with Harry and as a way to try to flush him from the wilderness in which he hid so well. Had it remained just the three of them things might have been different, but then they stumbled across one of Riddles Death Camps or 'Muggleborn Relocation Posts'. It was pure happenstance they even found it at all since Harry was just Apparating randomly when they literally stumbled into it while looking for a campsite after they picked up Neville. It was one of the smaller ones used mostly for research experimenting on Muggles and Muggleborns, which was fortunate because those didn't have a lot of opposition. After they destroyed it, they were over thirty strong with half that too sick or injured to fight. Her captivity, Neville's close shave with the Dark Creatures Riddle sent to kill him, and the camp, it was all just too much. She shivered remembering Harry's conversation with Neville when he told him of his plans going forward.

She remembered the day they put the first part of the plan to action. It was a day of chrysalis for her. The details crisp and clear as if she lived it just the day before. How she walked up the gravel path to the large house. That deep breath to still her nerves as she raised her small hand and knocked on the door. The reverberating echo of the hard unyielding medal of the object in her fist against the soft wood. That slow passing of time where every beat of her heart rang like thunder in her ears.

"Who the bloody hell is it?" came the angry voice behind the door.

"Telegram!" She immediately responded in that overexcited perky voice Harry said was necessary for the ruse to work.

"What?!"

"Candygram!" She improvised cheerfully loud enough for him to hear her. After all, who didn't like Candy?

She heard the grumbling, the pounding steps of the man as he made his way to the door. She waited for what seemed like an eternity before the door was jerked inward and the houses occupant stood before her. She didn't know what he expected to find on the other side but could clearly see she was not it. The small slip of a girl with her tangled filthy hair which obviously hadn't seen water or brush in months much less shampoo. Not to mention more than likely she had a leaf or twig sticking out of it somewhere from the forest litter that was her bed just that morning. Her cloak tattered and worn, clothes far too large for her body showing signs of neglect with patches and holes here and there. The smudge of dirt over her left eyebrow trailing down the side of her face. The clean yet bloody bandage that covered the ragged wound that ran from her mouth down her neck. She watched his confused eyes comically cross to the object she was holding right in front of his face. How his eyes focused to the tip of the barrel of the .357, along the top of the sight and past it, to look into her eyes. How his confusion faded to fear as their eyes met and he could clearly read her thoughts as if they were words on a piece of parchment.

At that moment, time suspended, she took back something that was stolen from her a mere week prior. She was not the fragile victim she was then. That day they took something from her that could never be given back, could not be reclaimed, and would never be forgotten. _Ever._ Today she was going to take back control of her life. No longer the ravaged victim of war, she was Luna Lovegood again.

And Luna Lovegood celebrated her return by pulled the trigger.

She never fought the kick of the pistol when her arm jerked upward, nor did she try to stop her arm from going numb and falling to her side. She sucked in quick breath as the report of the weapon rang counterpoint to the rain of blood. She felt almost disconnected from the sight of the bullet as it ripped through the man's head and out the back. Slowly she let out the air in her lungs as if it was cleansing. Carrying all the evil they had infected her with. Watching as the man's head rocked back. His knees gave way as he topped backward to land spread eagle on the floor of his sitting room. The slow moving pool of blood as it drained onto the hardwood floor around his head like a crimson halo. She never blinked and for a few moments she didn't move. Not even to wipe his warm blood from her face where it had splattered when she shot him.

Everything was a bit of a blur for the next few moments her focus almost completely on the man she just killed. She remembered Harrys hand on her shoulder when he moved past her. His strong presence reaching out to her, warming her barren soul. His soft words of his pride in her. Her slow smile that blossomed fully as if Christmas had come early and Santa had brought her exactly what she wanted.

"Five minutes people! You got your assignments, let's get this done. There are a lot of people waiting on us so let's do this and get back." Harry's voice barked.

She never heard the sounds of multiple apparations. The sounds of the score people who rushed into the house were muffled to mere white noise. Their forms going through cabinets, filling sacks with potions, food, clothing, or other valuables existed as only slight shadows to her eyes as they sped to and fro. She wondered what the last thing to go through his head was… aside from the bullet. Did he repent? Was there even a shred of good in him that in that last moment rose up from the depths he chained it and screamed, 'I told you so?' Or was it as she suspected and his only regret was that he could no longer rape and murder in his masters name?

Luna moved from her ponderings to the things going on around her. She only knew what everyone else was doing from remembering the briefing where Harry gave everyone their tasks. It wasn't until one of the muggles they rescued called out to Harry after he shouted out they had two minutes left could she focus completely on the raid going on around her.

"Fires lit in the Kitchen Harry. Marcy's got everything edible out."

"Tanks are set up Harry, ready to go when you are." Another added.

"ONE MINITE PEOPLE! If we don't have it by now, it's not worth it. Let's Go!" Harry shouted. People ran by carrying cloths, linins, blankets, sacks of valuables, edibles, or really anything not bolted down or too heavy to be carried. As their people bolted outside and the stream of apparition pops started to fade, Harry walked over to where a group of medal tanks had been set up. She didn't know what was in them but Harry and three others raided some Muggle station to get them. She watched as Harry turned one of the valves creating a hissing sound that had some kind of funny smell.

"Come on, the fuse is lit and we got all we could. Time to go." He stated flatly to her as he rose and took her hand. She nodded trusting him allowing him to slide along apparate her back to camp like the muggles who were helping them. She never went back there, but they did hear form their sources there was nothing left of the building. By the time anyone realized something was wrong, it was already half leveled and burning so fiercely not even magic could stop it.

A masculine voice shattered her reverie. "You know, it's far too early in the morning to be thinking that hard."

Luna smiled when she felt his arms encircled her and his lips touched her head in a soft kiss. She turned slightly and kissed his cheek while looking into his eye. "Remembering the day we struck back."

"Hmmm, I remember. A lot of people got their first good meal that night. If I had been faster Stunpike wouldn't have nailed me with that blood boiling curse and I could have been there for it."

"You didn't missing anything love. There was only Carson. If only all our raids afterward had gone so well as that first one."

Neville's gentle eye held her own. "I know." He didn't need to say more, and she knew it. They had covered this ground before. She reached up and cupped the side of his face before going on her tip toes to place a kiss on his ruined right eye. The scars had long healed and though the twisted ruin of the closed empty eye socket might have deemed him unattractive to others it did not turn her off.

"You know you're not supposed to be about yet. Healer Lawson said you needed bed rest for a day or two before he would clear you for light duty."

"It was just the Cruciatus Curse love. It's going to hurt if I'm in bed or maybe taking a walk?" he hinted with a rakish look.

She couldn't help but smile at his antics. "I might be persuaded to look the other way and not report this infraction to your Healer. However Mr. Longbottom, I will demand a steep price." A profiteers look in her eyes.

"O-ho, and what might that be? I would pay any ransom for the chance to take a stroll through the woods with such a fair maiden as you Mrs. Longbottom."

Both of them stiffened when the sudden spike of magic reached out to them from the wards effectively murdering their playful banter. Both looked out the window to see a brown hair woman striding up the long path to them from the forest boundary.

"O dear. It's Tracy."

She heard as well as felt Neville grunt. His eye narrowing in distaste. "I knew better than to curse the day when I woke this morning wondering if she'd found out Harry was back."

Luna sighed while reluctantly leaving her husband's embrace. "We knew this was coming. I am honestly surprised it took her this long before confronting us. It's been building for years."

"Maybe. Well, no help for it then. I'll be in the solarium." Neville stated before he slowly limped his way in that direction.

"Yes love, I'll bring her there once the tea is ready."

Luna busied herself and finished preparing their breakfast by the time she knocked on the door. Luna opened the door to let her in while Tracy was unwrapping her scarf from around herself. "Good Morning Tracy."

"Hi Luna. Sorry about just dropping by but we need to talk." Tracy bluntly stated.

"Neville's in the solarium. We were about to eat breakfast, your welcome to join us." Luna said while picking up the tray and leading the way.

"I heard Neville got hurt from Ron." Tracy not so subtly inquired as they made their way through the short hall that connected the Rookery to other areas of the small manor house.

"Cruciatus exposure, a few cutting curses, some minor bruises and burns from the roof that fell on us. Nothing too serious. Some rest he will fine in a day or two. It seems every wannabe Dark Lord thinks throwing around Unforgiveables and flashy magics makes them special. This one did have a talent for evasion so it took a while to track him down."

"Ron said you were in Mexico?"

Luna shook her head, and only half of it meant to answer Tracy's question. The small talk was grinding on her nerves. Especially since both of them knew this was not a social call. "Panama at their request." As they entered the solarium Luna walked over to the table to lay down the tray. Neville was sitting in his favorite stuffed back chair looking calm. The only sign to his agitation was the rolling of his fingers on the armrest. She gave him a cup of tea which removed that tell. After she served Tracy and herself she sat unobtrusively on the arm of his chair.

They sat for a few moments enjoying the moment. The solarium was as close to a greenhouse they had managed in the last few years. With all their time abroad and the construction they had to content themselves here. The room was filled with a strong mix of magical and non-magical plants. Nothing as extravagant or as useful as say Mulkswood but they had Roses, mums, as well as a variety of hybrid _Bellus Senistra_. The leafy plants seemed to change color as they watched depending on how much of the sun's rays they could personally claim. She always liked that one and was very grateful when Neville was able to procure the rare seeds they sowed here.

"I take it you found out Harry's back. By the sour look on your face, you're not as happy about our homecoming as we are." Neville stated from behind his tea cup shattering the silence.

"It's not that I am unhappy with you being back Neville. I don't like what he's doing to Daphne. This sick relationship they have needs to stop before he breaks her." Luna raised an eyebrow at the blunt to the point tone of voice Tracy used. It seemed Charlie was rubbing off on her as this was far from the usual tactics Tracy normally would employ when this topic was brought up.

Neville chuckled as he lowered his cup to set it aside. "Blunt and to the point. Good, I'm not in the mood to dillydally or fence with words. It's their business Tracy. Not yours, not ours, not anyone's. To my knowledge Harry has never mistreated Daphne in any way. Do you know something I don't?"

The Slytherin alum frowned as she also set aside her cup. "No he hasn't…"

"Never raised his hand to her? Verbally lashed out? Asked her to do something that was against her will?" Her husband inquired.

"No."

Neville's confused face continued to focus on their guest. "Then I don't see the problem."

"Do you know what I found when I visited Daphne yesterday Neville? Daphne cleaning up her sitting room which was soaked in enough blood to have been mistaken for a Butchers Workshop. That is what I am talking about Neville. I can't stop your fools from your suicidal adventures but he doesn't have to go to Daphne to get his skin stitched. You have your own healers; Daphne mentioned training a few of them."

Luna kept quiet and sipped her tea while Neville retorted. "He doesn't go to Daphne for that. She does that of her own free will. Hell, he's not even going to her at all. Have you forgotten that the flat she lives in is actually Harrys? Granted he's almost never there but it's still his place. She doesn't have to live there. If I remember it right, she just moved in and started taking care of the place. When she wanted to open the clinic to expand her healing skills he offered her any of a dozen locations but she chose to open it up under their flat. Except for back at Hogwarts or during The Hunt, I don't remember a time Harry ever asked her to patch him up."

"Neville, I'm just asking for some help…"

"Then you came to the wrong place. I'll not betray Harry the way the rest of our society has. Not for you. Not for anyone. Unlike the rest of you, I have never forgotten what I owe Harry, both personally and as a member of Wizarding Britain."

Luna raised her eyes from the dark depths of her tea. Tracy was frowning and appeared to be biting her tongue. Neville just sat stiffly in his chair while he waited for their guest rebuttal.

Still frowning Tracy spoke carefully. "This has nothing to do with Harry's legal troubles with the Wizengamot Neville. This…"

If she hadn't been expecting it she would have jumped when Neville slammed his fist into the arm of the chair and started shouting. A quick way to anger him was to bring up that very topic. "It has EVERYTHING to do with that! The rest of you sheep might be comfortable forgetting what we owe Harry, but I assure you WE have never forgotten it."

Having had enough of Neville's attitude Tracy fired back. "You. Went. _Renegade_! What the hell did you think was going to happen? By Merlin's cock Neville what did you honestly think was going to happen when you broke the Compact? They would just nod their heads while turning a blind eye to the fact several Houses went Renegade? They would forget that you took your families Magic from their kept places and started a guerrilla war? The times you stole, murdered, and eradicated hundreds of year's magical history? Don't even get me started on the mess you created by involving the Muggles!"

Neville waved off her points with an angry cut of his hand. "Riddle involved the Muggles with his Muggle Hunting and Death Camps. You weren't there; you didn't see the wretched things done to those people. Muggles are not animals Tracy, but even the most rabid dog didn't deserve the things being done to them for the sake of 'The Advancement of Arcane Exploration.' Harry decided and I agreed with him, those that wanted to fight had the right. Riddle was killing their world as much as he was killing ours."

Luna shifted slightly when Neville leaned forward to give him the room he was seeking. "As for the Compact what did you expect us to do? A handful of teens against Riddles forces? We had to do something to even the playing field!"

Tracy's voice was just as angry as Neville's when she replied. "The use of Muggle weapons by Wizard kind has been proscribed since the founding of our society Neville. It's one of five that make up the Compact. Our kind do not use, magically alter, nor allow the use of any Muggle Technology for _any _reason! You of all people knew that! You are lucky you didn't get the Veil for what you and Potters little Freedom Fighters did. Those sacred tenants are inviolate!"

"You talk just like those stuffed shirts in the Wizengamot Chambers during our trials. You act like there was a way to win this war with our Honor intact. Let me tell you something Tracy, something Harry told me when he came to me with his mad plan and I said very much the same things you're saying now. Yeah, I was brought up the same as you and hundreds of others knowing about the Compact and how it tied Wizard kind together at the time we separated our worlds. When Harry told me his plans I told him the same things you said."

"Then Harry said to me, 'Do you know how many people Riddle has killed in both wars? I'll tell you that before I left Hogwarts I figured it around five thousand wizards and witches, maybe over thirty thousand muggles in over thirteen years of his activity and of all ages. Babes in the cribs to the old and infirm. Neville, you act like our Honor matters; go out there and stand in the ashes of forty thousand dead souls. You ask them if Honor matters."

Neville paused for just a second while Luna shivered remembering Harry's impassioned speech to them that night. "The silence is your answer."

Tracy closed her eyes while rubbing her temples. "Look Neville, I'm not here to fight with you about the Wizengamot's verdicts involving Potter, the War, or any of that. I'm just here because something needs to be done about Potter. The wars over, been over for five years and he's still acting like he just walked off the front lines."

"What do you know of the Front lines?" Neville bit back. "I'll pass on what I want to say about that as old hat but let me ask you Tracy, is our Government willing to call off the warrant for Harry's arrest?"

Tracy sighed. "You know I don't work for the Ministry Neville. But no, as far as I know from Arthur and Percy there has been no appeal to the judgment they passed down."

Neville nodded knowing that. "We bled for this country Tracy, Harry more than most. We were all that stood between Riddle and total victory and they stripped us of everything. Our names, our lands, our titles, our Wizengamot seat. Not that any of us cared; Harry least of all. But I will tell you what he did care about. _Nothing changed_. Instead of repairing the damage Riddle did to our world they spent their time fleecing us for all they could. We accepted that as a possibility when we made the decision to stay after the war was over and stand trial for our actions. It's not about the money, as you can see we do pretty well on our own. All of us even agreed that the price was worthy even if those of us that had noble heritages lost them. Granted we were not happy to do so, but if that was the price for a Riddle free world, we would pay it with a smile. But is it too much to ask for some gratitude? For a few old outdate laws to be repealed? We fought for equality for everyone but _nothing has changed_. There is little to any change from the lull between the Blood Wars and now."

"What do you want me to say Neville? You made your beds when you made the decisions you did. I respect your devotion to Potter because he took the fall for you but Neville…"

Luna lightly placed her hand on Neville's shoulder when he tensed at Tracy's words. She was every bit as outraged by the brunettes gall but it wouldn't do to have to explain to Charlie why his wife 'disappeared' after visiting them. She always liked Charlie and the morning, despite this visit, was just too nice to ruin by having to hide a body. She could tell Tracy knew immediately she said the wrong thing and quieted while Neville sucked in harsh breaths in an effort to calm himself.

When he started speaking his voice was a near hiss. "You don't know shite about what I personally owe Harry. With my one eye Tracy I see the world so much more clearly than you do with two. Do you know how I lost my eye? I was home for Yule, maybe two days when Riddles assassins found me. All our time at Hogwarts I was leading the D.A. trying to make a difference against Snape and the Carrows and make no mistake, though they had no proof it was me, they knew enough to guess. They tried to get Gran to hold as a hostage against me to get me to stop but Gran was a tough old bird. In the end they had to kill her before she killed them. So with no hostage to hold against me, they laid a trap to silence me."

"Riddle had his people take my parents from St. Mungo's Tracy. He used two Dementor's to suck out their souls and in their place he put in some kind of shade or something. I only know the basics from when we interrogated Thornwall months later and I knew nothing about any of this when the imposter that looked like my Gran took me home. There I was greeted by my 'parents' for the first time in my living memory."

Luna had her eyes closed with her hand still resting on Neville's shoulder. She could feel his pain wafting from him like a miasma. Even with her eyes closed she could almost see the tear trekking down his face. Following the same paths as hers. Fresh from her own hell, she just stood there unable to do anything when they found him. "My father held me down on the floor of my ancestral manor. My mother cooed to me sick things while I struggled to get free. Then, that thing in my mother's bones, ripped out my eye. She sat astride me as my father held me down with one hand and used the other to make sure I watched as she ate it. The next thing I know the Imposter that looked like Gran was dead and those monsters when blown off me. Before I could roll over Harry had killed those things by simple Reducto's to their heads."

"_That,_ Tracy, is the evil we fought. That is what I owe Harry." His voice lowered to a near whisper as he continued. "That Tracy is what we protected all of you from, and why everyone owes Harry. My story is only unique because I survived it. There were a lot of people who were not so lucky when they fell prey to Riddle's terror weapons. You're not going to find an ally against Harry here Tracy. He's not hurting Daphne, like us, she chooses to stay close to him. Instead of trying to convince us that we are wrong in our beliefs, maybe you should take a hard look at yourself and yours. Personally I don't care what you believe or what you do with your life. We fought for you to have that choice to believe and do what you want. But don't come here thinking you know a damn thing about the war, Harry, or us. Now we may not be as affluent as the Noble House of Weasley but this is still my house. Get out."

Luna rose from her seat while Neville folded back spent into his chair. "Mrs. Weasley. I'll show you out."

Shame faced and without anything to say to Neville's speech she rose from the couch and followed Luna to the door. Tracy turned around as she stepped out the door turning to Luna. "Luna…"

Luna stood stonefaced shaking her head. "You knew this was a pro Harry household before you came here Tracy. You knew before you came here there was no chance you were going to gather any allies against him."

"I don't care about Potter Luna. I just want to help my friend get out of something that is going to destroy her one day. You have to see how bad this situation is for her. I just need some help to get her free of this never ending cycle; before it kills her." Tracy begged.

"Tracy, you sat on the sidelines like many of our people did. Our actions kept the war from reaching you which was one of our aims. We never begrudged any of the neutral families getting away unscathed but make no mistake it left its mark on all of us. That includes Daphne. She didn't fight with the rest of us, but there aren't any of us who can claim that they don't owe their lives to either Harry or Daphne in one way or the other. Leave them alone Tracy."

Tracy frowned at the bland tone Luna was using. "You can't honestly expect me to let this go Luna. She's as much my friend as she is yours. I can't just stand aside and let Potter keep doing this to her. Do you have any idea what it does to her every time he comes back like that?"

Luna smiled sadly at Tracy. "He's not going home to hurt her Tracy."

"Somehow I can't believe that Luna. I was there at Hogwarts when he was tempering himself before the war even got rolling. No matter how it started I think he's getting hurt on purpose so that she will heal him, and that's just not right Luna. Even you have to admit that."

Luna shook her head at Tracy's theory. "He's not getting hurt so she will heal him. Harry would have to care enough about himself for that to even be possible, and he doesn't. He's not going home for healing; he's going home to die."

Tracy blinked in shock. "What do you mean to die?"

"That is all he's wanted since Sirius died and he learned the prophecy Tracy. To die. During the war, he couldn't bring himself to risk it too much because he wouldn't leave everyone to Riddles mercies. Especially after we started seeing what Riddle was truly capable of. Those of us who work with him at The Company, we all know this and do what we can for him. We'd do anything for him if he asked. Daphne's the only one strong enough to challenge his wishes."

Luna shook her head again. "You just don't get it Tracy. You don't understand. We would do absolutely _anything _he asked us. If he wanted to topple the Ministry, we would do it. If he wanted us to assassinate members of the Wizengamot, we would. If Harry walked up to us and told me he wanted me I would let him take me anyway he wanted. Fulfill any deviant fantasy he came up with. You know what happened to me during the war, so think about that when I say this. Tracy, I would scream joyously as he rode me filling any of my orifices he shoved himself into. And Neville, he would cheer Harry on. Anything to help him deal with this hand he's been dealt. But that's not what Harry wants. He wants to die fighting evil; he wants to go making a difference. No matter how much we love Harry, not one of us can bring ourselves to stop him. So we fight with him so he is not alone when it happens, where ever it happens. Daphne's the only one who won't let him go. Daphne's the only one who is strong enough to keep him alive. No matter what you try to do Tracy, this will end in only two ways. Harrys going to succeed in killing himself or Daphne's going to find a way to convince Harry that there is more to life than blood and pain."

**Authors Note:**

Okay, this little story is just something that hit me and so, to get it out of my head here it is. Plans to continue it are in place, but I am really curious to see how people take it. If the story intrigues you, do let me know. I could use all the thoughts you all have.

Thank you all for reading and Please Review.


	3. The Iron Maiden

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all, I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Beta's:

Still running solo on this one. Hopefully I did all right. I have Beta'ed this story to the best of my limited ability. There will be mistakes, but I hope to have limited them so that it does not detract from the story too much. Anyone interested in being a sounding board and/or Beta, give a shout.

Note:

If you don't want to read an Authors drivel, scroll down to the chapter start. This is the only warning you will get. This story, as some are guessing, is pretty dark. It's meant to showcase what Evil can do, and how years later those who fought are still feeling the impact, especially as it revolves around Harry. Most cannon characters have had had something really horrific happen to them, their characters are changed from those events. Yes, this story is pretty vague on some things, but as chapters unfold those details you are looking for will come.

This story is an experiment in writing for me to see if I can write a story in this way. Confusing, convoluted, strong dark themes, while still writing people as they are in their cores. In addition to write a story so the reader feels that they came right in the middle of the story, but not so confusing that a reader is turned off from continuing. I may fail, I may succeed, but at least I am trying. Breaking out of the standard format of ones writing comfort zone is a good exercise in any regard. Questions, concerns, thoughts, ideas, really anything would be appreciated so I can get a feel and see if my chapters are getting the desired impact to you, my readers. Now, on with the show.

**Chapter 3, The Iron Maiden**

_Beep._

She looked up from the muggle book she was reading on white cell reproduction. The differences between magical and mundane healing practices was fascinating, and in this case, highly relevant to the current situation. The man in the bed next to her moaned softy as if in pain. At the sound of the monitor and his groan she raised her head to check on her patient. The various magical monitors floating about the room showed her that the treatments were holding. All of the latest transplants remained viable with no signs of rejection. The monitor that was keyed to check for the distemper in his blood showed that he was almost purged of the necrotoxic effects that had infected his white cells. The physical damage had been easy to fix, even the mix of obscure dark curses were easy to remove. Only a bit complex and somewhat time consuming. However all the repairs would have been for nothing if she couldn't get his blood purged. She just would have had to keep replacing his organs and that was only good to stall for time. She didn't have unlimited resources to be doing that and already her stocks had almost been depleted by the insane medical maneuvering and unconventional healing she had to use to save him. It will take months to replace the cloned organs she lost repairing him this time. This didn't even include the time it would take her to rebuild her stores of his blood.

_Beep._

She leaned back into the chair sighing at how the cushions molded to her form. She still had no idea where Harry found this chair but was glad when he did. The old one was horribly uncomfortable for her to sit in for the long periods he was here. She raised her wand pointing the tip at one of the monitors and gave it a slight flick. Her tired eyes watched the readout that showed the pain relief potion in the IV bag being administered at a steady drip. Her patients moaning tapered off after a moment and the monitors showed his sleeping rhythm was returning to a deeper mode. His mind was resting again thanks to the dreamless sleep she designed to work in conjunction with the IV pain reliever, but his body was doing anything but. She could see that his body was practically running full tilt in its struggle to fix him. He was the only one she had ever treated whose body reacted like this. She must have treated hundreds of people during the war but he was the only one she had ever seen that seemed to have a body chemistry with a mind of its own. It was the only explanation she could come up with to explain how his body reacted to infections, threats, poison, or damage. And she had _plenty_ of experience monitoring him to know. She couldn't help but marvel at the sheer _will_ Harry Potter possessed to live, seemingly written deep into his very cellular structure. Even despite his best efforts to kill himself.

_Beep, Beep, Beep… Beep._

The altered rhythm brought her eyes to his heart monitor. It showed a small grouping of affected cells she had somehow had missed had reached his heart. She flicked her wand at the monitor bringing up a three dimensional view of his working heart. She watched as a group of white cells grouped together in ambush by somehow holding on to the wall of his heart. As the infected group passed they attacked savagely. It was the reverse to how the strange Necrotoxin originally affected them. It would do the same, attacking his white blood cell and somehow camouflaged itself from the body's natural defenses. By the time she realized what it was doing it had overrun almost 80% of his white blood cells and was deep into his bone marrow. That was three days ago. She had purged and replaced his blood through transfusions, dialysis, and switching spells before his body or magic began figuring out what she already knew. Smarter, more aggressive white cells began to be produced. Yesterday was the first day she saw them doing this, laying ambushes and counter attacking seemingly, and baffling to her, resistant to the Necrotoxin. At first they were confused, sometimes attacking healthy tissue but over the last twenty four hours they seemed to be getting a handle on it. It was almost as if there was a white cell version of Harry in there leading and directing the others. She had never read or seen anything like it in her years of study. The only explanation for this and other similar instances she witnessed in his past healings was it had something to do with his magic working through his body.

_Beep._

She sighed in relief and lowered the visual display. He was thankfully healing himself now. A flick of her wand set the nutrient potions to begin feeding into him. He was absorbing them at an astounding rate now but that was normal for him at this stage. The young woman was about to pick up her book when a knock rang from the front door. A quick check to Harry showed him twitch at the noise but he remained unconscious. Sighing again she rose stiffly and hobbled a few steps heading to see who it was hoping it wasn't Tracy again. She loved her friend but this was not a day for one of those kinds of visits. Granted the other day wasn't either, but that never stopped her from coming over anyways.

Her fears however proved unjustified when she opened the door to a very tall sandy blond short haired man in his forties. She smiled warmly at him. "Hello Marcus."

The man pulled off his drivers cap and held it in front of his tweed sweeter vest that was barely visible under his blazer. He smiled affably. "Miss Greengrass. Um, the Lady Malfoy has arrived and is down stairs in Exam Room Three."

"Is it two already?" Daphne asked in surprise.

"Indeed Ma'am. Joseph sent me up to let you know." She watched as he nervously shuffled his cap between his hands a moment before he spoke again. "How's the Commander?"

She smiled reassuringly. "He's resting well now Marcus. He should wake sometime this evening. Tomorrow at the latest." Her smile turned impish. "You can let the others know. I'm fairly sure they have been pestering you for information."

Marcus smiled relived. They all knew very well not to pester her for information on Harry's recovery. The time she almost banished James into a tree during the war set the standard. He interrupted her while she was researching how to reattach limbs that had been severed by dark magic one too many times. She understood his, and by extension Harry's peoples concern but it was counterproductive and they really should have known better. She almost chuckled at the memory. It wasn't funny then, incredibly aggravating would be a better description, but was somewhat funny to her now. At Hogwarts people called her the 'Ice Queen' because she made herself so unapproachable. However after the incident with James, and the one time their camp had been discovered and Harry's people saw her fight, she was known as the 'Iron Maiden'. They stopped pestering her after that. No one wanted firsthand knowledge of the kind of damage a Healer could inflict with their exact understanding of the human body. No one knew how to hurt someone like a healer. "Yes Ma'am, they have. Some real worried people back at the Office. The news will cheer up quite a few people."

Daphne stepped out and closed the door behind her before setting off to walk around the building to enter the clinic. "Well, you can let them know he will make a full recovery but I am restricting him to office duties only for the next week. Let Maggie know to tell Luna that if they have any high profile contracts to hide them till then." As she rounded the corner she blew out a frustrated breath at the truth she was about to utter. "Merlin knows if he sees something more interesting than an investigation he'll be on the first flight Morgana only knows where before he's recovered. It will be Brasilia all over again."

The man walking beside her nodded his head. "Of course. I'll make the call in a few moments once your safe inside."

Daphne rolled her eyes. Four years here and there was only ever one attempt to breach the wards. The man was hit with no less than sixteen different wards, the combined effects even she couldn't unravel, he was shot eight times, and cursed three. The message it sent was more than efficient to detour even the most moronic wizard or witch from attempting it going forward. It's been three years since then and not so much as a probe on the outlying detection wards by anyone yet Marcus and his team still treated every day as if that was the day someone was going to try something.

She couldn't help but smile when she entered the clinic itself. Her staff had put quite a bit of effort in to creating a welcoming feel, though if she was honest Lavender deserved most of the praise for the décor. The Gryiffindor alum just had a serious eye for decorating. Warm colors, pleasing art that didn't make their clients feel outclassed, all put together in a way that allowed the nervous people the sought their services feel at ease. It was hard enough on them just coming into a free clinic without feeling like they were a charity case. Most of them couldn't help but be in their situations, and not one of them could afford the treatments they received here. She knew it, they knew it, but there was no need to rub their faces in it.

The waiting room had a few people about as was usual at this time but what made her smile was Joseph. The young man couldn't have been more than a handful of years older than she was and currently was entertaining a boy of about five. He was kneeling down making exaggerated faces while trying to twist a long balloon into the shape of a dog, something he did a lot for the young ones while they or their parents waited to be seen. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Marcus raise his chin to Joseph, and the brunette man gave just the barest of nods while poking his tongue out the side of his mouth. Apparently this was necessary for the intricate maneuvers he was undertaking. Marcus retreated back outside with a parting 'Ma'am' while Joseph finished up with the dog. He somehow created one with no tail and five legs though the young boy thought it was a great just the way it was.

Daphne turned when she heard Marcus outside greeting someone. She noticed it was an elderly lady whom she recognized as Mrs. Watson from the tenements across the street. Daphne watched as Marcus offered his arm to her and helped her across the semi busy road while she listed to the young boy's mother laugh and flirt with Joseph.

For just a moment Daphne wondered if Mrs. Watson would have been so comfortable walking with Marcus if she knew he was Harry's demolition expert during the war. Harry found him on their third raid hitting Death Camps. Death Eaters killed his wife and captured him during a one of their muggle hate raids east of Kent. Retired Royal Marines or something Harry mentioned to her once. Marcus was even the mad genius for the 'Light Spell' Luna crafted, and wasn't that just a nasty piece of work. There was no telling how much damage his creations caused during the last year of the war he was with them. Would Mrs. Watson fawn over Marcus gentlemanly manner if she knew of the swath of destruction he left as they battled to bring down Riddles Ministry? Daphne turned her attention back to Joseph. During the war Joseph was almost as lethal as Harry, and nearly as suicidal. They found him wandering around alone in Sherwood half-starved and more than a little insane. He somehow escaped a camp he was incarcerated in and wandered into theirs during their brief stay in those majestic woods. If Harry knew his back story he never told her but Daphne was willing to bet he didn't. Whatever happened to him before he joined them must have been horrible because it was months after the war before he calmed down and started to heal. No magic or surgery she had discovered yet could take away the physical scars on him from his internment. Would the little boy's mother flirt with him so if she knew that he had over forty kills notched on his wand? Would she look at him that way if she had witnessed the raw intensity he displayed during their raids when he cut down Death Eaters? For that matter would any of these people let her treat them if they knew of the blood she had on her own hands?

Daphne shook her head from those thoughts. She already knew the answer and it was not something to brood over. That was the kind of thinking that the Wizengamot used. She knew both men well, and both were good people. They had internal scars that may never completely heal, Physical scars that resisted all attempts to remove them, they've done horrible things for the war, but like all of them, they never stopped being good people. She let herself into the back offices to get the file for her two o'clock. By the time she entered Exam Room Three she managed to push the dark thoughts that held her a moment ago back down where they belonged. Hopefully to stay buried but she knew better.

She was greeted as soon as she opened the door. "About time Daph, having a lie in or you forget your sister was coming in for her sixth month checkup?"

"Hello to you too Astoria. How have you been?" Daphne returned joyfully as she walked over to hug her pregnant sister who was already in her hospital gown and half lying on the exam bed.

"I would be a lot better if little Scorpious would stop kicking me in kidneys or using my bladder as a spring board."

Daphne made a face of distaste. "You can't possibly be considering letting him get away with naming your child 'Scorpious', Astoria. I can't believe he would do something so wretched to his first born. Doesn't he remember the hell he got his first year over 'Draco'?"

Her sister smiled warmly at the jibe. "No, I am pretty sure he remembers but you know how stubborn he can be. We had an agreement, if it's a boy he gets to name him. If it was a girl, I would get to name her. The one who lost this round gets to name the next regardless. So he decided to name him after his paternal uncle. One of the few members of his family he still talks too."

Daphne shook her head while casting a few spells to check on the baby's growth and comparing it to the charts. "How's mother?" she inquired.

Her patient lay still letting her run her tests. I always helped when they did; she got more detailed information with fewer spells. "Mums well. You know she's seeing someone. She really likes him and he seems nice from the two times I've met him. Owns his own shop in Hogsmeade selling odds and ends just down from the Three Broomsticks."

Daphne raised an eyebrow but smiled happily. "I'm glad. Do you know how serious it is?"

Astoria chuckled wickedly. "Seriously enough that she mentioned that he's inquired a few times who was currently acting Patriarch of Clan Greengrass."

Her wand stopped moving over her sister's abdomen at the news. "What did she tell him?"

"The truth."

Daphne winced. "How did he take it?" she asked hesitantly.

Astoria still had a playful smile on her face. "Pretty well all things considered. Mum said he stopped breathing, paled a bit and promptly passed out. She did say that after she revived him he asked when he would be available to discuss bride price."

"Brave of him. He has no problem meeting with the Notorious Butcher of Bristol? Or whatever hateful names there calling him now a day. Even babies born after the war know he's a wanted 'criminal'. Is he willing to sit at the table with an enemy of the state?"

Chuckling her sister answered her. "Mum said he was. She asked if he would be gentle, he's not skittish but nervous as all get out. Mum said he doesn't buy the label the Ministry is hanging on him. He lost two cousins to Voldemort this last round and celebrated the victory. However she said he has a very healthy fear of the Man Who Won."

Daphne groaned. "You know how Harry feels about the old ways."

The evil smirk on Astoria's face grew. "Harry may not like it, but I will. After the grilling he gave Draco and me, it will be fun to watch him do it to someone else." Her face grew a bit more serious as she continued. "Besides, he may hate it but its tradition and he accepted the responsibility when Dad died. Dad entrusted all of us to him to keep us safe during the war and to guarantee our futures and happiness after; assuming we lived."

She nodded at her sisters points and restarted her tests. "He knows that but I think the only real reason he went through it for you was because you wanted to marry Draco. If it was anyone else I don't think he would have put half the effort into it."

Daphne nodded to herself over her findings. Everything was perfectly within ranges for this stage of the pregnancy. With her focus on the magical readings from her diagnostic spells she didn't see but could clearly hear the mirth in her dark haired sister's voice. "O, Harry certainty didn't do it by half. Poor Draco was most put out when he realized he had to negotiate with Harry of all people instead of Mum. The look on his face when Mum told him was priceless. I'm still looking for a way to get the memory turned into a picture. If I can manage it by yule, it would make a perfect greeting card. Humility is good for a man's soul. Doubly so for my husband and to be perfectly honest, he is still a bit too prideful for his own good. He's getting better though."

Daphne replied wryly. "I still can't believe you had our house elf secretly take those pictures of them while they sat at the table. I don't think I've ever seen Draco's face shift from sick green to enraged red and vice versa that many times in one hour."

Daphne checked a few boxes on her chart while Astoria chuckled darkly. You could almost see the light dancing in her eyes from her words. "He banked heavily Harry wasn't going to be prepared for the tradition. Don't tell him I told you so, but that night he told me he was actually impressed. I thought he was going to swallow his tongue just saying the words."

Daphne couldn't help but laugh at the image and could easily imagine how much those words would have hurt him to say aloud. There was little love lost between the two. She remembered Harry's obsessiveness as he tried to prove Draco was up to something. Even the Ministry didn't probe that far into every single aspect of Dracos life during his post war trial. Harry had three teams of his people scourging every single breath he drew. "Is he still fuming over the clauses Harry added to the contract?"

Her sister rolled her eyes. "Not as much as he did in the beginning. It's not uncommon for men to have Mistress Clauses for the purpose of needing an heir but for Draco to have to pay half the Malfoy fortune if he ever strayed yet for me to have the ability to take a lover at no penalty was just mean. Draco knows I love him and won't ever use them but it was quite the slap in the face. He knows Harry put those in there for spite since he couldn't find anything on him."

Astoria's merry tones faded away after a moment. Daphne noticed the frown that followed. "Going back to Mum, Harry better apply as much effort into Mums suitor as he did mine. I may have put up a fuss over how he was treating Draco during the negotiations but I appreciated it. I love Draco but I was also blinded by it. If Draco was false in his love for me I wouldn't have seen it. Harry would have. Especially when he had his people look into the match. Mum deserves the same. If this wizard is unworthy or false, Harry needs to deal with it. Mum's beau cannot nor will not replace Dad, but I want her to be happy and she's been really lonely since Dad died. Tradition dictates Harry ensures the match is viable. Mum trusts his judgment, especially after how she saw him handle my contract. I don't think she would have been willing to become this attached otherwise. I know he feels the tradition is degrading and I won't deny it's been abused in the past by some House Heads. However, we both know that when the Head of House is following the tradition as it was meant to be then this tradition can be a godsend. Nana is a great example. Her first love was that German Count she met while on holiday in Nice. You remember her story how she pined for him for over six months only for Great Grandfather to show her the article that came out in the French paper how he was caught trying to swindle some Baroness out of her inheritance to pay off his gambling debts."

Daphne sighed. "I remember. Nana was trying to explain how the tradition was not necessarily a bad thing when Dad started looking at offers for my hand." She went quite a moment while she finished up her paperwork. "Well, little _Scorpious_ is developing well, though I still think you should go to The Abby and talk to Healer Basil and let him check my findings. He's far more knowable than I am in pregnancy diagnostics. You know I'm just going to send my findings to him anyways."

"You know Draco only trusts you to check on me. He said, and I quote, 'You are not going to St. Mungo's to be checked by those incompetent morons who barely know which end of their wand is which. I'll not trust the Malfoy Heir to their moronic fumbling. You are going to be seen by a real healer, your sister.' When I mentioned that you would want me to go to The Abby he refused on the grounds that the Healers couldn't be trusted any more than the ones at St. Mungo's since half of them are Muggles. 'What would a Muggle know about a magical child?'"

A smile quirked at the corner of her mouth before Daphne stated dryly. "He knows I incorporate muggle medical practices in my healing techniques doesn't he? I've been doing it since the war when I started training under Dr. Bernard."

Astoria rolled her eyes at her husband's hypocrisy. "Yes yes, but he said you're a Witch first and if you can keep Potter alive for as long as you have, you can do anything." Both women laughed at that before Astoria looked serious again. "So, you will talk to Harry then?

Daphne nodded in resignation. "I'll talk to him later this week Tori, but…" Daphne sighed at the imploring look her sister was giving her. "I talk to him, okay?" She smiled weakly when her sister did.

It was an awkward moment while she waited for Astoria to get dressed. "How bad was he hurt on the last contract?" Astoria asked compassionately. "Tracy said it was pretty bad."

"For Merlin's sake what did she do, run to you that night trying to enlist you in some mad plan to put a stop to my 'sick relationship'." Astoria rolled her eyes when Daphne even through in air quotes to make her point.

"Not that day unless Harry came home last night, which I doubt since Tracy said she's been at this for days. She came by the Manor for tea yesterday evening. She looked pretty frazzled, said she's been making the rounds but so far she hadn't had any luck getting anyone to help her break up you and Harry. Said she even went out into the muggle world and looked up Granger but no luck."

"For the sake of Magic, I am not even in a relationship with him." Daphne stated exasperatedly at her friend's efforts.

Astoria finished smoothing out her dress before she looked to her disbelievingly. "Sure Daph, pull the other one. Lie to Tracy all you want, but don't try to lie to me."

Daphne stiff defensive posture sagged under the glare of her younger sister. "Just leave it alone Tori."

"You love him. Admit it."

She smiled weakly, almost painfully. "He doesn't love me. I'm just his sometime friend, healer, and ward."

"Have you told him how you feel?"

"What good will that do Astoria?"

Her sister enveloped her in a comforting hug. "You never know Daph. You never know."

Daphne opened the door to the flat tiredly. Though she was not gone long the conversation with her sister took a lot of her emotionally. She walked in to check on Harry to find his bed was empty and all her monitors were blank. A sound from the loo adjacent to the room told her where he was. She was already walking to the door when it opened revealing him clutching the wall to keep himself steady.

"I don't think I want to know what you fixed this time. I feel as if half my internal works were new and they were still figuring how what they are supposed to do." He stated blandly.

She marched over to him putting his arm around her to help steady him as he walked back to the bed. "Maybe because they are new. Your kidney, liver, one lung, about four feet of large intestine and ten of your smaller intestine were all replaced, to be exact. The curses created a very potent and deadly Necrotoxin that I've never seen before. It was destroying you from the inside before I tracked it down to your blood. You're lucky Dr. Bernard, Healer Lawson and I developed our cloning technics to replace damaged organs during the war. I used up all your spare parts here though and I'll need a lot more of your blood type as well. " She timidly informed him as she sat him down once they crossed the small space.

Harry grunted at the information. "That would explain a lot actually. You should have just let me die Daphne, I'm not worth this much effort…" he didn't finish the sentence at the look she gave him but sighed. "…fine. Contact The Abby and they will get you resupplied. Do you remember where you put my boots?"

"You need rest Harry. You should rest." She cautioned.

"What I need is my boots so I can get to the office. I can't expect Luna and Neville to shoulder the post contract load. If you're going to keep healing me I might as well do something useful." He countered while wozzingly looked around.

Daphne dutifully rose and retrieved his boots as well as a fresh set of his cloths. She didn't speak again until he was fastening his campaign cloak about his shoulders. She just watched him with aching eyes while he slowly dressed himself. "Have Joseph slide along apparate you. You're not strong enough yet to manage it on your own."

He paused for a moment but nodded his head. "Any messages while I've been gone?"

She replied quietly. "Jake's called every Monday since you've been away asking if you were back and free to meet with him at the Proud Stag on Thursday. Astoria was in earlier today for her sixth month checkup. The baby is doing well."

"Six months… has it already been that long. Boy or Girl?" He inquired disinterestedly.

"Boy. Draco wants to name him 'Scorpious' in honor of his Uncle."

That got a reaction from him, even if it was short lived. He snorted but his tone was just as bland as it was before. "I'll never understand Purebloods. Hope the kids got Astoria's spirit. He'll need it with that name. Might as well name him Albus Severus or something equally as stupid. Anything else?"

"Astoria mentioned Mum is getting pretty serious with the man she has been seeing. He's asked to meet with you." Harry blew out disgusted breath. Before he could say anything Daphne soldiered on. "I know you don't like it but will you please think about it? It would mean a lot to Mum. You know she's a traditionalist and this is how things are done."

She could feel his eyes on her while she looked at the carpet. "You think I should do this?" It was both a question and statement.

Daphne nodded but didn't reply. They had this conversation when Draco had asked for Astoria's hand. "Fine, I'll think about it and let you know in a couple of days. What day is it today anyways?"

"Thursday. I'm sure if you called him Jake would be more than happy to meet with you. He's given me the impression that he goes to the Stag anyways, but I am sure he would enjoy your company."

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Harrys nod. Daphne sat quietly waiting for him to leave as he always did. They had played this scene out more times than she could count. He would wake up, ask for his messages and then force himself to carry on about his day no matter how badly he was injured. She knew if she said something, if she told him not to go, he would stay but he wouldn't be happy about it. He always listened to her when she put her foot down and did as she asked but she couldn't bring herself to make him stay if he didn't want to. It was different if it wasn't advisable for him to be doing things, she didn't feel bad then. The only times she could bring herself to force him to rest was when she knew he shouldn't be doing anything else but. However today, fresh from her talk with her sister she could feel the rebellious side of her coming out. Screaming at her within her mind to make him stay regardless of his feelings.

She rose with him when he did, watching him gain his balance back and walk out the room. She followed just behind him at war within herself. As he reached out to open the door something inside her snapped.

"Harry!" He didn't turn around at uncharacteristic break from this scene. But his hand immediately stopped resting on the door knob. He didn't turn, neither did he speak. He just stood there.

They stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Her mind at war with her heart. Tracy's voice telling her to stop and give up what she had. Her sister's voice telling her to confess her feelings for him. Her own inner voice divided between fear of rejection, and her desire to know once and for all if there was anything in his heart for her. In the end, she ducked her head and turned sideways away from him undecided and retreating from the knowledge she sought. "Will…will you be home for dinner? I was thinking of making a Kale Brose tonight."

He was quiet a moment. Still with his back to her and facing the door. "I doubt it. If you need anything, I'll be at work, or maybe with Jake. I'll have my cell on me once I get my effects from Maggie. Either way I don't think I'll make it back until very late."

Daphne nodded to herself as Harry had already walked out the door.

**Authors Note:**

Okay, this little story is just something that hit me and so, to get it out of my head here it is. Plans to continue it are in place, but I am really curious to see how people take it. If the story intrigues you, do let me know. I could use all the thoughts you all have.

Thank you all for reading and Please Review.


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